Reporting live...from the airport (as if...)
Off to my beloved country, will be staying for slightly more than a week only this time. I hope everything will be well.
Oh Changi, of all the times I've been here--which is not many, by the way--I never got to really browse around the reputedly world's best airport (my information might be outdated). So, today, I'm determined to really take a look on what they are offering here, in this huge airport.
Well, after about 20 minutes, here I am, bored, writing. A great many varieties of shops, but since I'm on shopping strike, I guess I'll leave them alone for now.
See ya!
Friday, September 16, 2005
Thursday, September 15, 2005
My first cow attack!
I was asked to do an article on my recent trip to Malaysia, the following was how it happened, though bits and pieces have been added in or altered.
Being adventure seekers and nature lovers (ehem), the four of us (Silvia, Cynthia, Carol, and I) decided to pack up and do a short sojourn to Malaysia to escape the hustle and bustle of workaholic Singapore. The plan was simple: to climb a mountain and camp at the summit, then return the next day. Alas, the location: Gunung Belumut in Johor. Altitude: 1010 m. Equipment: water, food, walking sticks, jungle boots, insect-repellent, plenty of good humor and never-say-die attitude.
We set off to the Malaysian town of Kluang in a stormy Friday evening, arriving at our hotel at the ghastly hour of 3 am for a quick nap before starting the remaining leg of the journey towards Kahang Timur (20 km from Kluang) at the base of the mountain. On our way to base camp, we passed this plantation where you can find cows grazing on the grass. "So skinny, the cows," I commented. Silvia agreed.
After a quick reconnaissance to the jungle, it was settled that we would do the climb early the next morning instead. We were hoping the muddy path from yesterday’s heavy rain would dry up by then, and camping was jettisoned in favor of chalet. So we spent the afternoon browsing soft toys in the nearby town of Ayer Itam and snacking on the famous Ramlee burgers. I managed to buy some crackers for the guys. Three for ten ringgit, anyone? On our way back to the chalet, we found the herd of cows coming towards our direction, apparently making their way home, wherever it was. We waited a while for them to pass, (un)fortunately it wasn't long. Another photo opportunity missed!
Armed with our boots and headlights, we began our trek at 6.30 the next morning. The air was refreshing; its natural jungle scent filled our lungs and woke us from early morning drowsiness. Along the well-trodden forest path we could hear the occasional ripple of stream in the distance and the sharp cries of the animals. I had some reservations about the sounds at first, but as the cries grew closer and to my relief (or disappointment to some), nothing peculiar was in sight. Perhaps my mind was too busy imagining being attacked by monstrous giant apes to notice.
Two hours into the forest, we came across this crown-shaped rock the locals named ‘Batu Mahkota’, or simply, ‘Crown Rock’. The giant rock was quite a phenomenon; circling a patch of raised ground, its surface bears semblance to tiny but consistent waves. Well, I thought, who knows what else was in this vast jungle? It turned out, many other things. Carol had read in an article that a couple of years ago tiger sightings weren’t uncommon in the region. Imagine our surprise when, coming from deep valleys of the jungle, a roar was heard. More like a yawn than a roar, actually. Nevertheless, my heart skipped a beat at the sound, thinking who'd be the lucky one to discover my remaining bones, if ever. Cynthia murmured a faint "It was only wild dogs" as I looked around for the source of the sound, then Carol whispered "Hurry! Hurry!" to us, causing us to quicken our steps. Not wanting to give myself an unnecessary fright, I decided to trust Cynthia's words (although we decided later that it really was a tiger's roar).
Breathing sighs of relief after no more roaring ensued, we were thrust to another challenge. Looming above us was 90-degree steady ascent all the way to the summit. Silvia gasped at the sight (she later told me it was an amazing feat for her to climb down those slopes, she thought she wouldn't be able to make it down after we reached the summit). After managing to climb the steep slopes with some difficulty, we finally made it to the false summit. It was a wide clearing where cloudless blue sky hung above our heads. To get to the true summit, we passed through tracks surrounded with dense foliage and mossy trees, an attribute that earned the mountain its moniker ‘Belumut’, which means ‘moss’ in Malay.
The true summit was marked with a pyramid-like rock pinnacle, upon which people wrote a series of graffiti bearing their names. We took time to catch some breath and dig in our lunch, which consisted of delicious tuna and salmon sandwich, before making our descent.
The roundabout trip usually takes 7-8 hours, but it was 9 hours for us because we took time to make our way down those steep hills. The descent was more of a relaxed affair, I got to really look at the vegetation and the different species of flora found in the forest. Found quite a pretty trumpet flower. Not bad.
By the time we had dinner at a local restaurant in Kluang, I was already half asleep. The trek had totally sapped my energy. However, we still had some bits of reserved energy to shop for fruit and enjoy fresh coconut drinks before heading back to the Lion City. Four thousand burnt calories, some sore legs, and a good night’s sleep afterwards, I feel great!
Being adventure seekers and nature lovers (ehem), the four of us (Silvia, Cynthia, Carol, and I) decided to pack up and do a short sojourn to Malaysia to escape the hustle and bustle of workaholic Singapore. The plan was simple: to climb a mountain and camp at the summit, then return the next day. Alas, the location: Gunung Belumut in Johor. Altitude: 1010 m. Equipment: water, food, walking sticks, jungle boots, insect-repellent, plenty of good humor and never-say-die attitude.
We set off to the Malaysian town of Kluang in a stormy Friday evening, arriving at our hotel at the ghastly hour of 3 am for a quick nap before starting the remaining leg of the journey towards Kahang Timur (20 km from Kluang) at the base of the mountain. On our way to base camp, we passed this plantation where you can find cows grazing on the grass. "So skinny, the cows," I commented. Silvia agreed.
After a quick reconnaissance to the jungle, it was settled that we would do the climb early the next morning instead. We were hoping the muddy path from yesterday’s heavy rain would dry up by then, and camping was jettisoned in favor of chalet. So we spent the afternoon browsing soft toys in the nearby town of Ayer Itam and snacking on the famous Ramlee burgers. I managed to buy some crackers for the guys. Three for ten ringgit, anyone? On our way back to the chalet, we found the herd of cows coming towards our direction, apparently making their way home, wherever it was. We waited a while for them to pass, (un)fortunately it wasn't long. Another photo opportunity missed!
Armed with our boots and headlights, we began our trek at 6.30 the next morning. The air was refreshing; its natural jungle scent filled our lungs and woke us from early morning drowsiness. Along the well-trodden forest path we could hear the occasional ripple of stream in the distance and the sharp cries of the animals. I had some reservations about the sounds at first, but as the cries grew closer and to my relief (or disappointment to some), nothing peculiar was in sight. Perhaps my mind was too busy imagining being attacked by monstrous giant apes to notice.
Two hours into the forest, we came across this crown-shaped rock the locals named ‘Batu Mahkota’, or simply, ‘Crown Rock’. The giant rock was quite a phenomenon; circling a patch of raised ground, its surface bears semblance to tiny but consistent waves. Well, I thought, who knows what else was in this vast jungle? It turned out, many other things. Carol had read in an article that a couple of years ago tiger sightings weren’t uncommon in the region. Imagine our surprise when, coming from deep valleys of the jungle, a roar was heard. More like a yawn than a roar, actually. Nevertheless, my heart skipped a beat at the sound, thinking who'd be the lucky one to discover my remaining bones, if ever. Cynthia murmured a faint "It was only wild dogs" as I looked around for the source of the sound, then Carol whispered "Hurry! Hurry!" to us, causing us to quicken our steps. Not wanting to give myself an unnecessary fright, I decided to trust Cynthia's words (although we decided later that it really was a tiger's roar).
Breathing sighs of relief after no more roaring ensued, we were thrust to another challenge. Looming above us was 90-degree steady ascent all the way to the summit. Silvia gasped at the sight (she later told me it was an amazing feat for her to climb down those slopes, she thought she wouldn't be able to make it down after we reached the summit). After managing to climb the steep slopes with some difficulty, we finally made it to the false summit. It was a wide clearing where cloudless blue sky hung above our heads. To get to the true summit, we passed through tracks surrounded with dense foliage and mossy trees, an attribute that earned the mountain its moniker ‘Belumut’, which means ‘moss’ in Malay.
The true summit was marked with a pyramid-like rock pinnacle, upon which people wrote a series of graffiti bearing their names. We took time to catch some breath and dig in our lunch, which consisted of delicious tuna and salmon sandwich, before making our descent.
The roundabout trip usually takes 7-8 hours, but it was 9 hours for us because we took time to make our way down those steep hills. The descent was more of a relaxed affair, I got to really look at the vegetation and the different species of flora found in the forest. Found quite a pretty trumpet flower. Not bad.
By the time we had dinner at a local restaurant in Kluang, I was already half asleep. The trek had totally sapped my energy. However, we still had some bits of reserved energy to shop for fruit and enjoy fresh coconut drinks before heading back to the Lion City. Four thousand burnt calories, some sore legs, and a good night’s sleep afterwards, I feel great!
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
The 'why's of life
I'm upset. This afternoon, I received the news that a major air crash has occurred in Medan. As bad news goes, the effect wasn't immediate. It took me some time to process, and now, after researching and asking family at home, it finally dawned on me that this really, really is terrible news.
I ask why. This is the sixth major air accident worldwide since August. Why, in such short span of time, horrible events keep manifesting themselves? The air crashes, Katrina in New Orleans, tsunami earthquakes in Asia, all pre- or un-warned; I have a visceral conviction that people are expecting worse things to come. Forgive my negativity, in my current state of distraught mind, I felt the urge to ask the very question people asked themselves when the tsunami struck. I tried and tried, to dredge up the answer I know lies somewhere within the deep enclaves of my being.
I was not a big believer in Him. Still, I find myself uttering words like 'My Goodness!', 'Oh My God!', or 'Gosh!' to trivial things ever so often. Perhaps I do have faith after all. The tsunami and today's crash struck the deepest impact because of the proximity of the events and the fact that my family lives in Medan. My heart never skipped a beat when I heard the news. I have faith that my family will be okay. I have faith that my relatives and friends will be fine. I just couldn't bring myself to even imagine [...]. This is my power. My strong-willed determination to never accept any possibility that anything [...] can happen to them. I'm one of those people who vehemently deny the existence of anything remotely harmful to their loved ones. It pains me to write that last line. I'm that egoistic. This is how I protect myself.
But I digress. When disasters struck, humans start questioning. Why did God do this to us? Why didn't He save the people? Was this fated? Is this the way He punishes us? I ignored those questions because I believe it has nothing to do with the God that I presume people pray for. I refuse to believe there is one supreme omniscient being that controls the universe. It is oxymoronic when we say God is a being that transcends our imagination. I believe disasters happen, just as the sun rises and the rooster crows. It's part and parcel of our world. If there's one thing I believe in, it's science.
Now, to appease those who would disagree with me, I equate God with Faith. My faith is my God. Not faith in God, but faith (for lack of a better word) in anything I want to. This is how it works: Every being has faith (forget in what), then God lies within their core, the collective core consciousness of all beings in the universe forms an 'x' (I don't know what x is), which in turn governs everything. We're all our own mini Gods. Just like in Buddhism, "Buddha lies within us." This crude thinking is quite old school, but it made much sense to me now.
I don't have the answer to everything. As I progress on this entry, contradictions abound. There's still much to learn, much to find answers to, but I shall take things slow. It's sad and enlightening that the events that have befallen us lately could give me inspiration. Life is contradictions.
I ask why. This is the sixth major air accident worldwide since August. Why, in such short span of time, horrible events keep manifesting themselves? The air crashes, Katrina in New Orleans, tsunami earthquakes in Asia, all pre- or un-warned; I have a visceral conviction that people are expecting worse things to come. Forgive my negativity, in my current state of distraught mind, I felt the urge to ask the very question people asked themselves when the tsunami struck. I tried and tried, to dredge up the answer I know lies somewhere within the deep enclaves of my being.
I was not a big believer in Him. Still, I find myself uttering words like 'My Goodness!', 'Oh My God!', or 'Gosh!' to trivial things ever so often. Perhaps I do have faith after all. The tsunami and today's crash struck the deepest impact because of the proximity of the events and the fact that my family lives in Medan. My heart never skipped a beat when I heard the news. I have faith that my family will be okay. I have faith that my relatives and friends will be fine. I just couldn't bring myself to even imagine [...]. This is my power. My strong-willed determination to never accept any possibility that anything [...] can happen to them. I'm one of those people who vehemently deny the existence of anything remotely harmful to their loved ones. It pains me to write that last line. I'm that egoistic. This is how I protect myself.
But I digress. When disasters struck, humans start questioning. Why did God do this to us? Why didn't He save the people? Was this fated? Is this the way He punishes us? I ignored those questions because I believe it has nothing to do with the God that I presume people pray for. I refuse to believe there is one supreme omniscient being that controls the universe. It is oxymoronic when we say God is a being that transcends our imagination. I believe disasters happen, just as the sun rises and the rooster crows. It's part and parcel of our world. If there's one thing I believe in, it's science.
Now, to appease those who would disagree with me, I equate God with Faith. My faith is my God. Not faith in God, but faith (for lack of a better word) in anything I want to. This is how it works: Every being has faith (forget in what), then God lies within their core, the collective core consciousness of all beings in the universe forms an 'x' (I don't know what x is), which in turn governs everything. We're all our own mini Gods. Just like in Buddhism, "Buddha lies within us." This crude thinking is quite old school, but it made much sense to me now.
I don't have the answer to everything. As I progress on this entry, contradictions abound. There's still much to learn, much to find answers to, but I shall take things slow. It's sad and enlightening that the events that have befallen us lately could give me inspiration. Life is contradictions.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)